


I speak of love awake, I speak of love in dreams

by SilverInk



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Caretaking, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Music, Operas, brief mention of harm to children in context of a case, ooc maybe bc not much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 12:43:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14749100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverInk/pseuds/SilverInk
Summary: It’s late, well past the time Morse should have set aside the files on the latest case and gone to sleep, when he hears the knock on the door of his flat. He half wonders if it’s just in his mind, but he’s not that tired, he hasn’t even had much alcohol, so it must have been real.“Max,” he breathes and pulls the doctor inside quickly, bending down to kiss him frantically as soon as the door is closed.





	I speak of love awake, I speak of love in dreams

It’s late, well past the time Morse should have set aside the files on the latest case and gone to sleep, when he hears the knock on the door of his flat. He half wonders if it’s just in his mind, but he’s not that tired, he hasn’t even had much alcohol, so it must have been real. He stands, making his way toward the door and turning down the volume of his record player as he goes. He’s only wearing his vest and a pair of flannel pajama pants, he realizes, but he doesn’t have time to throw on anything else, so he lets it go.

 

When he opens the door, he’s surprised to see Max Debryn on the other side. He doesn’t know who he expected so late (possibly Thursday, coming to pick his brains and go over theories together), but he’s suddenly very glad it’s Max. The two of them haven’t seen each other in far too long, only a handful of times since they officially started this tentative relationship of theirs, and it’s clear Max has missed him just as much from his soft smile.

 

“Max,” he breathes and pulls the doctor inside quickly, bending down to kiss him frantically as soon as the door is closed. 

 

“Morse,” he laughs against his lips, and then Morse feels a firm hand on his chest, pushing him back slightly. He makes a soft noise of disappointment, but takes a step back. “ _Morse_. I’ve missed you,” Max whispers, his hand still resting on Morse’s chest, “but I only really came up because I was passing on my way home and saw your light was on, and you need to sleep, and you need to take care of yourself, Morse.”

 

The concern in his face and the way he says Morse’s name all make Morse glance down and away, suddenly feeling terrible for causing Max such worry.

 

“I’m fine, Max, really. I’m not even tired,” he says quietly, and Max gives him a sharp look, searching his face, and then nodding slowly, none of the sharpness disappearing from his expression. His fingers move to trace Morse’s prominent collarbones above the neckline of his vest, and Morse shivers at the touch.

 

“You do still need to sleep, Morse. What are you doing up so late?” he asks, and Morse glances over his shoulder to see the case files strewn across the floor and the record player softly playing the final few songs of Tosca. This record is one of his favorites, and he wishes he and Max could sit for a moment and enjoy it properly.

 

“I’m close, I can feel it,” he says, looking almost desperately at Max. “The answer’s right there, I just need a few more hours—”

 

“A few more hours?” Max asks incredulously, eyebrows raising, and Morse feels himself blushing. He takes a breath to defend himself, but Max is speaking again before he can say anything, his hand now gripping Morse’s shoulder. “If you want to solve this, you can’t function on so little sleep. You need to be at work in, what, five hours? I know how important this is to you, it’s no less important to me, but I think whatever it is can wait. Besides, you’re going to need sleep if you want to be able to think coherently.”

 

Morse opens his mouth sharply to reiterate that he feels fine, he could stay up all night if that’s what it takes to prevent someone getting away with this, but Max suddenly looks tired and worried for him and very small. Morse knows he’s been pushing himself hard on this case, and even though they haven’t been able to see much of each other, he knows Max knows it too. What else can he do, though, when there are young children coming to harm in this case? It’s his job to put a stop to it, and by God he’s going to do it to the best of his ability.

 

But, he also doesn’t want to argue, and sees that Max doesn’t either; so, if a little reluctantly, he gives in.

 

“You’re right, Max. I’m sorry if I’ve worried you,” he sighs. Max’s hand has moved back to his chest, settled right over his heart, and Morse covers it with his own, then brings Max’s hand to his lips and kisses the back of it.

 

“So you’ll sleep now?” clarifies Max. Morse nods, and Max smiles then leans in to kiss him.

 

“Good.” He keeps kissing Morse, and Morse sighs into it, feeling himself relax and start to realize that he actually is quite tired.

 

“Will you stay here tonight?” he mumbles, his lips now pressed against Max’s neck. He feels more than hears Max’s answering hum.

 

“I think we’re both too tired for anything more, Morse—”

 

Morse pulls back an inch, just enough to look at him, and shakes his head. “No, not for that. Just… so we can be together. We’ve hardly seen each other at all this week, and it’s rather a long drive to yours now, isn’t it? And… I don’t want you driving so far in the dark when you’re exhausted.”

 

Smiling now, Max nods. “Alright.” Kisses his lips again. “I’ll stay.”

 

Later, after they’ve brushed their teeth and Max has stripped down to his vest and underwear to sleep in, they find themselves standing together in the middle of the living room, holding each other and swaying gently to the new record Morse has picked out.

 

“You know,” Morse says, suddenly curious now, “you never did tell me why you were at work as late as this. Was it for this case?”

 

Max sighs, nodding. “That autopsy that was supposed to have been done this morning?—” Morse snorts a little, remembering what a flap that had caused at the station. “—Turns out the two new residents I gave it to forgot. They told me they’d done it, but I suppose they might’ve been a little scared to admit it, this only being their second week of training. Anyway, I have spent the last several rather unpleasant hours doing that.” Morse frowns, and pulls Max closer. These kinds of cases are particularly tough for him, Morse knows.

 

“But I’d really rather not talk about work, if it’s all the same,” Max says, and Morse nods.

 

“Of course.”

 

“What’s this we’re listening to?” Max easily changes the subject to one they both like, and Morse answers him eagerly.

 

“This is _Le Nozze Di Figaro._ Act I. Do you know it?”

 

“I’m sure I’ve heard it before,” Max yawns, leaning more and more heavily against Morse. Grinning, Morse runs his fingers through Max’s hair and kisses his forehead. “I don’t really know what it’s about, though.”

 

“It’s about two servants, Figaro and Susanna, who want to get married,” Morse explains. “They’re getting ready, and when Figaro leaves the room, the married count they both serve tries to seduce Susanna. And she tells Figaro later, and they decide to trick the count by telling him his wife is also being unfaithful so they can give him the comeuppance he deserves and get married without being disturbed. When the count confronts his wife about it, she tells him it wasn’t true, and they eventually reconcile. Figaro and Susanna marry happily, and Figaro also discovers his long-lost parents.”

 

He only gets a sleepy hum in reply. Then, “That sounds much less dramatic than most of the ones you listen to.”

 

Morse laughs. “True. It’s a comedy.” In his arms, Max is now half asleep, and Morse grins and presses another kiss to his cheek. “Let’s go to sleep now.” He moves closer to the record player and turns it off, leaving the record where it is for the moment; he’ll put it away in the morning.

 

For now, he moves Max over to his small bed, and Max sits, then lays down with his back to the wall, blankets pulled up over his shoulders. He lifts an arm and Morse goes to him, settling as close as he can, and they wrap their arms around each other. Morse closes his eyes and enjoys the feel of Max’s warm hand stroking gently between his shoulder blades, and leans in to press his forehead against Max’s. 

 

These soft, calm moments together are one of his favorite parts of his relationship with Max, and he knows Max enjoys them too. Morse feels safe and protected like this, and he opens his eyes to take in all of Max’s softened features. Max is already watching him, his eyes full of warmth and fondness, and Morse swallows, still amazed that _he_ of all people can have this effect on Max. Max leans in and kisses him with heart-aching tenderness, and Morse can’t help groaning softly in his throat as he kisses back.

 

“Sleep now,” Max whispers, stroking his hair, and they both close their eyes and lay quietly in each other’s arms until sleep takes them.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the opera The Marriage Of Figaro. I don't know anything about opera, everything is from Google. If anyone has any corrections please let me know!


End file.
